


How Damien met Eliot, kind of.

by xantissa



Series: Uncommon Allies [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You mean to tell me that while few dozen of my men were securing this mansion and searching every nook and cranny, somebody was actually robbing the place?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Damien met Eliot, kind of.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has a sequel in the works now.

“Really Keller, you thought you could get away with stealing from me?” Damien looked at the man, bleeding and cowering on the floor. He knew his organization was still fairly young, that his reputation to be the man ‘you just didn’t fuck with’, was still making rounds. However in the last few years it was only the really serious players that had dared to go against him.

After all, his penchant for hiring the best, the coldest and definitely the baddest men he could find on all continents was enough to discourage the lesser fish. That was why Mathew Keller was such a surprise.

“My men took control of your home, killed all of your men and are now hunting down any and all people loyal to you. Don’t think you will end up anything other than dead. However how you die is a subject for negotiation, though.”

Keller cowered a bit more, his only working hand pressed to a gut wound that while being horribly painful, wasn’t immediately fatal.

Damien was aware of his people securing the place, he saw them moving the bodies of Keller’s security and home servants as they tossed the place. He already had the electronic files but he needed the hardcopies of the shipping manifests that Keller stole to blackmail him.

“Tell me where you stashed the files, and I’ll let one of my men put a bullet though your brain.”

There really didn’t need to be more negotiation, whatever fight was in the man, was beaten out of him a long time ago.

Weak, thought Damien, disgustingly weak.

“The guest bathroom on the third floor, under the sink, there’s a fake panel with a safe behind it. The combination is...” Damien tuned the man out, trusting Mattias to write down the numbers.

He opted to pour himself a drink instead, the whole dirty business disgusting him. He hoped to be beyond doing things like this himself anymore. Having hundreds of armed men on his payroll should have freed him. But it seemed finding a good enforcer was more difficult than buying a country. Who would have thought?

He got ready to leave, waiting only on Mattias with the files when he noticed a sudden change in atmosphere. Where his people were just waiting before, they were now moving quickly, anxiously.

Something had happened.

He followed the general hubbub and had to blink, twice, at seeing some of his best men laid out, sardine style in a studio, most unconscious, some with knives sticking out of them in uncomfortable places.

He passed the room, his people scattering around him like a flock of frightened birds.

When he found the bathroom, he wasn’t really surprised to see Mattias on the floor, blood pouring down the left side of his head, trying to get on his knees and cursing a blue streak.

The false panel was gone and the hidden safe gaped open.

Empty.

“Sir…” Mattias tried to say something but Damien raised his hand to stop him.

“You mean to tell me that while few dozen of my men were securing this mansion and searching every nook and cranny, somebody was actually robbing the place?”

He had no idea what he wanted to do more. To rage, to scream or just laugh at the sheer gall of the person responsible.

He wanted to meet them. And then kill them. Messily.

“If you don’t want to end up like Keller, find out who it was.” He snapped before turning around and leaving.

He had a feeling that things were going to get very interesting, very soon.

 

The End


End file.
